The sun beats down on my face, subsonic basslines shake my ribcage, strangers grin everywhere I look, and a shot of the local firewater warms my belly in a most agreeable way. Suddenly, a snowball to the face reminds me that this is no blissed-out tropical rave. This is the British Snowboarding Championships.

Part high-stakes sports event, part-beach party on ice, the championships have grown in their 11-year history into a unique social institution for adrenaline-loving, sleep-shunning snowboarders from all over the UK and beyond. Every year, as the season starts to wind down across Europe, a swarm of riders gathers to see off the snow with a week-long orgy of spectacular sport, extreme partying and bombing, head-on, down every mountain in sight.

For the contenders, it's the highlight of the snowboarding calendar, with chances to win career-enabling sponsorships thrown in. For those taking part for the crack - and these championships are open to anyone (entry details below) - it's the chance to take a loved hobby to the limit and compete against serious talent. And for the small army which comes to support the event, it's a winter sports holiday with guaranteed social life, or even a clubbing holiday with a healthy twist. (Note: alpine air at high altitude is the most instantly effective hangover cure this writer has ever encountered.)

They're a spirited bunch, these snowboarders, and the event is a noisy celebration of both the sport and the culture which has grown up around it. Along with the competitors, event organisers and several hundred enthusiasts (on one plank or two) who make the pilgrimage, a full entertainments line-up is flown out including live music, big-name DJs and what can best be described as extreme cabaret.

Last April, I joined the party in Austria's Hintertux valley. As soon as our coaches from the airport spilled a few hundred excited snowboarders onto the streets of Mayrhofen, there was a tangible sense of a community regrouping.

Virtually every soul in the village that week was there with a shared purpose, and anticipation melted formality as the arrivals gravitated to the bar of the Strass Sport hotel. Even a two-hour set from the resident band, Flame, a brother and sister soft rock duo, wearing matching leathers and mullets, did nothing to dent the rising spirits.

The championships have sometimes been nicknamed the British lottery for their unpredictability, and 2000 was no exception. Two white-out days nixed one event completely, a new half-pipe had to be dug out, and the schedule was rearranged daily.

But winter sport enthusiasts are flexible creatures, and the show went on. Amateur and professional riders, ranging in age from seven to 54, risked their necks for glory, and everyone else's considerable entertainment, in boarder-cross (timed downhill runs), dual slalom (head-to-head slalom trials), half-pipe (tricks performed in a giant half-pipe scooped out of the snow) and, most heartstoppingly, in big air (insane combinations of tricks performed after flying off a ramp).

And, this being snowboarding, the soundtrack came too. A roster of DJs kept choice hip-hop, breakbeat, drum and bass and electro tunes rolling across the slopes during the events, complete with inspired sports commentary/stream-of-consciousness rapping from the event's MC, snowboard writer Ed Leigh: 'You love the pipe, baby, and the pipe loves you.'

At the end of each day's riding, the championships crowd was quick to explore the full extent of the relaxation facilities back in the village. The Strass Sport Hotel boasts a swimming pool, squash courts, table tennis and pool tables, but the hot ticket was the mixed, nude spa, a huge space which looks as though it was kasbah-themed by Margot Ledbetter of The Good Life in the mid-Seventies.

Saunas, steam rooms, plunge pools, a Jacuzzi and all kinds of showers are on offer, although the long distances between the various installations served to keep the British contingent tittering sheepishly, neck-deep in bubbling water, while our more relaxed mainland cousins marched confidently around the place.

The apres ski was less thrilling. Any time between 5pm and 2am, when no dedicated DJ was scheduled to play, entertainment would default to the in-house programme. This could leave you at the mercy of local dance music: a strange hybrid of high-energy and tuba-fuelled home-grown pop which, over the course of the week, came to be known as technoomp .Equally likely was yet another exposure to Flame, although by their fourth consecutive set, rich in the work of Bryan Adams and Heart, they had become kitsch superstars.

Party time was when adrenaline levels reached their peak as, in various of the cavernous hotel complex's venues, the DJs delivered a series of sets which milked the event's mood and sent crowds of over-stimulated youths fresh off a 'filthy powder run', bouncing around the floor until morning. (Lonely female snowboarders might like to note that the male-female ratio at this event is around five to one.) Live appearances by buxom cabaret artiste Lucifire who, in silver body paint and oversized Y-fronts, ate light bulbs and fire and did the splits on broken glass, did little to soothe their mood.

The only trouble all week was a little friction between a few of the most die-hard ravers and a certain security guard, distinguished by a luxuriant black handlebar moustache and a short fuse, who threatened to use a little muscle to clear the room at closing time. The snowboarders' good-natured retaliation was to mount a mass burnt-cork offensive, persuading most of the assembly to arrive at the hotel the following evening wearing fake moustaches drawn on their faces with the cork. Guests thinking they had unwittingly walked into a Village People convention could be forgiven.

This year the event returns to Mayrhofen and runs from 29 March to 7 April.

As well as the usual snowboarding events, the biggest-ever 'mountain music festival' is promised this year, including comedy, breakdancing, the DJ-ing act The Cuban Brothers, the French band Shaggy Dog Story and DJs including Normski, Paul Thomas and Ninja Tunes's DK. Just don't forget to pack the burnt cork.

Getting there

Thomson (0870 6061470) offers both self-drive and flight-based packages to the championships in Mayrhofen which start on March 29 and run through to April 7.

A seven-day trip costs £260 if you drive, or £375 if you go by air. Ten days cost £345 by car, or £479 by air, and 14 days cost £415 by car, or £529 by air. All packages include ferry or flight tickets and transfers, plus bed and breakfast accommodation and lift passes. Online booking is at www.thomson-snowboarding.co.uk.

Snowboarders wanting to compete in the championships must hold a British Snowboarding Association licence, which costs £25 a season. These and registration packs - entry costs £20 per event, or £60 for all four in the contest - are available from the association which can be reached on 0131 445 2428, or email ssbsa@yahoo.co.uk.